


the journey

by kbots



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien gets akumatized and things go down, Angst, Blood, Chat Blanc - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Reveal, Trauma, no one actually dies, traumatic reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbots/pseuds/kbots
Summary: She slowly looked up to meet his gaze, and god, she felt so small, standing there unmasked and powerless with a broken arm. Chat simply towered over her, cold blue eyes staring down into her very soul. He could kill her if he truly wanted to, right then and there, and she knew that. That knowledge terrified her, it truly did, but part of her also knew that he wouldn’t. No, not her kitty. Not the boy that trimmed the thorns off her roses so she wouldn’t prick her fingers.Chat Noir is akumatized into Chat Blanc after accidentally discovering his father is Hawkmoth. Marinette cannot transform into Ladybug, but she has to save him.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Chat Noir/Ladybug
Comments: 20
Kudos: 201





	1. the scars

**Author's Note:**

> _they have stolen the heart from inside you  
>  but this does not define you  
> this is not who you are  
> you know who you are_
> 
> Inspired by Art of Rhues’s Miraculous Ladybug animatic on YouTube of Chat Noir being akumatized into Chat Blanc, and Marinette has to save everyone even though she can’t transform. It’s REALLY good, set to Moana music :) Title comes from Moana as well.

_She remembered flying._

_Not the way she preferred it, with the loop of her indestructible yo-yo string safely around her finger, flinging her way through the rooftops of Paris with a black cat chasing after her._

_No, she flew in the way one would if they were hit by a speeding train. Her body ragdolled through the sky in a perfect arc, her suit the only thing protecting her bones from shattering as the force of the blast hit her. She barely registered her earrings frantically beeping as she hurtled towards the ground, or the tingle of magic dissolving away against her will, against Tikki’s will. She heard screaming, but she didn’t know if it was hers or someone else’s, and before she could think to question it, she crashed. Her lungs deflated like a popped balloon as she hit the earth with a sickening crack and the world around her began to dance within her swimming vision. She could see the sky, however, and it was on fire._

_There was a broken scream nearby, and a face blurred out the blazing sky above._

_“Marinette? Marinette! I can’t...you were...” the face got closer, and she recognized those eyes, that curling mass of hair, that beauty mark anywhere, even disguised by the Miraculous._

_“Al-Alya,” Marinette sputtered, and god, her voice felt so foreign to her own ears, the words nearly impossible to spit out. Her vision was getting dark, so dark; she could hardly remember why she was even there at all._

_“Oh my god, Marinette, no, you have to stay awake! Please, we need you, we can’t do this without you...” Alya choked out._

_Another face appeared, this one green and frantic. “He needs you - he’s gonna destroy Paris if we don’t-“_

_And then the very Earth itself seemed to shudder beneath them as white light filled Marinette’s vision. There was a sound in the distance like screaming, a raw, shattered scream of pain and fury and horrible sadness, and then, nothing. The darkness crept in, and she let it._

_And she woke to Paris burning._

Her eyes fluttered open. She was on the ground, her cheek pressed against cool concrete. There was a ringing in her ears, and as she pushed herself onto her elbows, a sharp pain danced through her left arm. She nearly collapsed right back to the earth. She drew herself up to her knees, and couldn’t help but cry out, tears springing to her eyes.

_What had happened?_

She lifted her eyes, gazing across the city. Her city. As far as she could see, huge columns of inky smoke billowed through a hazy orange sky, the setting sun sending streaks of yellow and red shooting across the horizon so that the sky was ablaze right along with Paris. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it, and she coughed the smoke out of her lungs.

_Why was she here?_

She looked around. She saw Alya first. She was curled on the ground, still clad in orange and white, ears flat against her matted, tangled hair. Her flute was nowhere to be seen. Then, behind her in green, Nino. He was flat on his stomach, one hand reaching out to Alya, his shield in the other. Both of them were breathing, thank god, but their breaths were so shallow and they looked so fragile and broken...

Marinette’s eyes drifted and landed on black and yellow. Chloé, flat on her back, blood trickling from her open mouth. Her hair, no longer in a perfect ponytail, pooled around her head like a golden halo. Her black and yellow striped suit was dirty, and Marinette almost smiled despite herself; Chloé would never let her hair, or her clothes, touch the ground like that. Much less so when the ground was covered in ashes, dirt, and blood.

A soft sound caught her ear, the shifting of a foot, the scrape of metal against concrete, and Marinette turned to see a figure in white.

“Oh, _chaton_ ,” Marinette whispered.

He stood there, at the base of the Eiffel Tower, watching her with glassy eyes. His tail whipped furiously around his ankles for a second when her eyes met his, but other than that, he was still. Like a puppet at intermission, waiting for his master to pull on his strings and awaken him. He was standing, and he was unharmed, but he...he was not her Chat Noir.

White, velvety ears sat stock still on messy silver hair; normally they’d be twitching to and fro, always listening, always curious. His expression was painfully blank under that pristine white mask, as if he were carved from stone. There was no sign of his ever-changing demeanor: not a goofy smile or that heart-breaking sincerity that always came along with a rose. He always clipped the thorns off the roses he gave her, Marinette thought. He always made sure she would never get hurt. He always protected her.

But now, he stood still and stared at her, like a cruel, faceless angel, and she sat there and stared back, with torn clothes and a missing shoe and blood staining her fingers where she clutched at her injured arm.

She realized then, painfully, that she had clothes to be torn, and shoes to be missing. She looked down and found the only spots to be seen were the ones swimming in her vision. She was wearing her normal clothes...but Chat Noir was right there, and they weren’t even at the bakery. She rarely saw him outside of her balcony as just Marinette. And he was clearly akumatized. _So why was she..?_

A quiet, gasping breath pulled her attention away. She looked to the side, and her broken heart shattered again when she saw that tiny speck of red, dirty and battered, curled on the ground beside her.

“ _Tikki_ ,” she breathed; and god, she barely had the strength to even speak. Her own voice sounded so far away, and so foreign. She gathered the little red creature in a shaking hand, pressed a gentle finger to the side of Tikki’s round face. Tikki’s eyes were closed, and they did not open when Marinette softly called her name. They did not open when one of Marinette’s tears fell and splashed across the black dot on her forehead. Marinette covered her mouth with one hand, and pulled Tikki closer. She was shaking, she could feel it, and the tears were flowing freely now, coursing down her cheeks and her hand, and she could hardly even breathe.

As she clutched her friend to her chest, sobbing painfully into her palm, the other heroes roused themselves. Their very bones hurt, and when they saw Marinette, their hearts hurt, too. 

They had seen it happen. They were all there - it was right after a fight with a particularly difficult akuma; Ladybug had needed them all. Ladybug had just fixed everything, but then, there it was. It fluttered into the bell at Chat Noir’s neck, sensing the way his poor, broken heart was at its limit. The others didn’t understand why it happened. They didn’t understand the realization the unlucky black cat had come to, the realization of his father, and of a coffin beneath the floors of his lonely house, all discovered on accident. They didn’t understand the way that fight had broken him after he knew who was behind it. But they had seen his struggle.

He had fought it. He truly did. He screamed and cried and tore at his hair, and Ladybug had held his face in her hands even though her earrings frantically screamed at her otherwise, and promised him everything would be okay and he _must not give in_. But that voice echoed through his head, and the way Hawkmoth spoke to Chat Noir with more emotion than Gabriel Agreste had _ever_ spoken to Adrien had destroyed him. The purple cloud burst from the bell but Ladybug didn’t move, not even when his black leather suit turned white and his vibrant green eyes turned icy blue.

He had looked at her, almost painfully, as if he knew what he was about to do but he couldn’t stop himself. Tears caught on the edges of his mask as his akumatized powers flared to life, that horribly familiar voice just _egging_ his anger on, his shaking hand burst into light and it was all he could do to shove Ladybug away before he killed her like his father wanted him to. Hawkmoth screamed in his brain and he screamed too, the kind of scream that tore your throat to shreds. Ladybug went flying too quickly for her to react, shooting in an arc through the sky and she had detransformed before she even hit the ground. She skidded away across the cement, her clothes ripping and a single black flat bouncing away to rest where it fell. A small red shape hit the ground, too, and Chat Noir’s final straw snapped, just like that. 

Marinette stared at the unmoving shape in her hands. She could barely feel the pain anymore, could barely feel her tears catching on her lashes. She looked up, saw him there waiting for her. Still. Like a statue.

She gently set Tikki down and pulled herself to her feet. She stood, shaking, grasping her bloody arm, and forced herself to walk. Forced herself to go to him.

Her friends gasped as she dragged herself past them. She met Alya’s eyes, but neither of them had the words. She dragged her gaze back to him, to Chat, to her goofy, silly partner who was always there to watch her back.

At his side, his claws twitched, and his hands began to glow. His dull eyes met hers, and he looked as if he wanted to kill her.

“ _MARINETTE_!” Alya howled.

But Marinette did not stop. She dragged her feet ( _they felt so heavy_ ) and forced herself to go on until she had crossed half of the span between them. Her head was spinning, her breath catching in her lungs, and the movement was making her vision dance. She clutched at her arm, ignoring the feel of hot blood oozing between her fingers, and gazed tiredly at her precious black cat. Against her will, she stopped; her feet felt like iron weights, trapping her in the spot where she stood.

She glanced up, saw Hawkmoth standing above them on the Tower. She saw his wicked grin, saw him point his staff.

“Oh, Chat,” Marinette said wearily.

Chat stirred to life as that horrible butterfly fluttered around his face, and his feet began to carry him forward to meet her.

“Come, _chaton_. I won’t hurt you.” She held out her hand to him, kept it extended, even though it shook. She could hear Alya screaming, Chloé sobbing, but she dared not turn around. “It’s okay, silly kitty.”

(Behind her, Alya howled, struggling and fighting and kicking against Nino’s firm grasp, trying to break free and chase after her, but Nino didn’t relent. He was crying too; she could feel his tears on the back of her neck, but he didn’t let her go. Chloé was frozen where she knelt, her hands over her mouth. She couldn’t bear to turn away from the scene before her.)

Chat closed the distance between he and Marinette, never speaking a word, but standing so close to her that she could hear him breathe. The light from the akumatized cataclysmic power swirling around his claws pulsed softly as he drew up to her, enveloping her in the glow.

She slowly looked up to meet his gaze, and god, she felt so small, standing there unmasked and powerless with a broken arm. Chat simply _towered_ over her, cold blue eyes staring down into her very soul. He could kill her if he truly wanted to, right then and there, and she knew that. That knowledge terrified her, it truly did, but part of her also knew that he wouldn’t. No, not her kitty. Not the boy that trimmed the thorns off her roses so she wouldn’t prick her fingers.

She searched his gaze for any hint of him at all, her perfect, wonderful partner hiding in there somewhere.

“Hello, _chaton_ ,” she whispered. One of his eyes twitched ever so slightly; Marinette might’ve missed it had she not been looking for it. Feeling inexplicably brave (even without the spots), she reached up and pressed a shaking hand against his cheek. His skin was cold, so cold. Though his cruel eyes blazed down on her and his expression never wavered, Marinette felt him ever so slightly lean into her touch. He was quiet, though. So, so, _so_ quiet. 

“This is not who you are,” Marinette murmured. “You’ve only been good to me. Never once have you hurt me, and you won’t this time, either.” She stared up at him, her hand shaking where it rested on his face, her gaze never wavering from his own. Not even when that awful butterfly outline flared up around his face, and she saw him begin to draw back his glowing hand with claws twitching in anticipation. Not even when she heard Hawk Moth laughing above them. Not even when she heard Alya’s screams break off into a sob as Nino whispered nonsensically to her to calm her down.

“Sweet kitty.” She could feel the tears burning, threatening to spill over yet again. She let them, and heard Chat’s sharp intake of breath when the first slid down her cheek. “Don’t let him do this to you. This isn’t you. You know who you are.”

One of Chat’s velvet ears twitched as Hawkmoth whispered something into his brain. His steely gaze wavered for just a moment, allowing Marinette to catch a glimpse of the war he was having inside his head. She felt a surge of pity for her partner; out of everyone, he truly didn’t deserve this. They hadn’t shared much about their civilian lives, per her request: if Hawkmoth ever found out who they were, all hell would break loose. He would come after their families, after _them_. But Marinette knew that the boy behind the black mask had a type of sadness in him that didn’t just go away. He had told her a secret once: a horrible, awful secret. She remembered it so vividly, and the memory flashes in her mind as she watches him struggle before her now.

“ _Can I tell you a secret, my lady?_ ” He had asked. They were sitting atop Notre Dame after a spur-of-the-moment patrol requested by Chat, watching the stars. He didn’t look at her as he said it. “ _I don’t think my father loves me anymore_.”

Her heart had shattered so quickly. He had looked at her with a tight smile, and then, despite it all, he had _laughed_ to try and convince her it was okay. It was the saddest laugh she had ever heard, and she wanted nothing more than to take her back home to the bakery, swaddle him in blankets and bake him cookies and watch movies with him all night until he felt loved again. But she couldn’t do any of that, and it was her own stupid rule standing in their way.

And here they were. Her poor kitty, feeling so terribly unloved that it came to this. She silently cursed Hawkmoth for everything he had ever done.

Chat Noir shuddered slightly, his lips pulled into a horrible snarl at whatever Hawkmoth was commanding him to do. He was distracted, Marinette noted. She wondered....

She had done it once before, just to stun him, to buy her time. Maybe it would work again to pull him out of Hawkmoth’s trance, if only for a moment. She could convince him to give her his bell. As she thought, a small voice inside her head whispered to her: _if he kills you, he deserves to know the truth about how you feel, after all this time._ And, _god_ , she desperately wanted him to know. It took so long for her to come to terms with it, but there wasn’t any time left anymore. She stroked her thumb against his cheek, saw the way his gaze wavered for just a second, despite the butterfly framing his face. If this was her end, if this beautiful, imperfect boy was to be the one who did it, she wanted him to know that she didn’t blame him. She would never blame him for any of this, and she loved every rose he gave her.

And, after all, she had nothing left to lose.

She steeled her nerves as he turned to face her again, his power flaring around his fingertips as he drew his arm back all the way. She met his gaze again and decided.

It wasn’t romantic. It was simple, barely a brush of her lips against his. She stood on the tips of her toes, cupping his cold face with her shaking hand, pain dancing through her nerves and tears staining her cheek as she kissed him with closed eyes. She faintly registered the glow from his right hand through her eyelids, and the brush of his left fingertips against her ear, but as her lips pressed against his snarling mouth he simply...froze. The cruel lines of his mouth softened, and when she pulled away, she opened her eyes to his horrified expression. She pressed her palm a little firmer into his cheek - his wet cheek, she realized. There were tears in his eyes.

He stumbled back slightly, away from her touch. The hand that was reaching for her earrings flew to his mouth as his icy blue eyes widened in shock and realization. “I...I can’t- I don’t...” he mumbled, his wide eyes flicking back and forth. His agitated claws, still burning with cataclysmic light, dropped away from her face.

He looked everywhere at once, taking in Paris burning, Alya, Nino, and Chloé on the ground staring at them, a furious Hawkmoth above him on the Tower, frantically trying to get him back under his thrall. Then, he looked at her, standing there before him with tired eyes.

“M-Marinette..?” Chat whispered. He said it so quietly in that raw, broken voice, that if she wasn’t so close to him, she wouldn’t have heard him at all.

She smiled faintly. “It’s okay, _chaton_.”

“You’re...Did I...” His voice faltered, eyes falling on her arm, digesting the awkward way she held it close to her body. When he next spoke, there was so much unbridled pain and fear in his voice that Marinette’s heart nearly shattered into pieces all over again. “I hurt you.”

“No, Chat, you didn’t. That wasn’t you.”

Chat’s brow furrowed, his lips a tight line, fighting to keep his floodgates closed. “Marinette.” He choked on her name; it was almost a plea.

“ _Chaton_ , my kitty,” she murmured back. “I need...” She hesitated, glancing up at Hawkmoth. “The bell. Give me the bell. Once I help Tikki I can destroy it and purify the akuma.” She held out her hand. “Please.”

Almost instantly he reached for his neck, and her heart melted. Even now, against all odds, he was so loyal to her. He would do anything for her.

But then, the butterfly flared to life around his eyes and Hawkmoth was screaming at him so loudly that Marinette could hear him from the Tower where he stood. Chat winced and his hand darted to his ear instead, his knees buckling slightly beneath him. His teary eyes started to harden back to ice, and as if against his will his cataclysmed hand began to reach for her again, his inner struggle tearing her apart inside because there was nothing she could do to help except be strong and not run away. His eyes flitted from cold to terrified and back again. His hand froze right in front of her face - she was staring right into the light pulsing in his palm.

She closed her eyes. “It’s okay, kitty. It isn’t your fault,” she said, and her quivering voice betrayed the fear she was trying to desperately to hide. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “I’ll always forgive you.”

She heard his breath catch in his throat. Hawkmoth howled something from the Eiffel Tower, and she opened her eyes to see Chat Noir, in one, halting motion, wrench his hand from her face to the bell at his neck instead.

Hawkmoth screamed in fury as the shiny white metal rusted over, the wind whipping the ashes away into the smoky sky, and a small, purple butterfly materialized where the bell once sat.

Marinette gasped in horror as Chat Noir crumpled before her. “No- I don’t- I’m not transformed, I can’t-“ She scrambled for a yo-yo at her hip that wasn’t there, her breath catching in her throat as she remembered Tikki, her dear, sweet Tikki, and the akuma was fluttering away and Hawkmoth was laughing and then-

A small flash of red.

The little kwami snatched the akuma up in her mouth, and her eyes shone with a bright pink light for just a moment before opening her mouth, letting the purified butterfly flutter away into the sky. With a sigh of relief, Tikki turned to face Marinette. She looked as if she could barely hold herself up. “I’m going to cure everything,” she said faintly. “I need you to catch me when I fall.”

Before Marinette could say anything else, Tikki closed her eyes and raised her little arms to the burning Parisian sky. She whispered those magic words, and out of nowhere, a swarm of ladybugs engulfed her. They shot upwards in a column, their pink light almost difficult to look at as they covered the sky, sweeping through the streets and swirling around burning buildings. They danced around Marinette, healing her broken bones and mending her clothes, and around Chat Noir, whose pristine white suit faded away to black, and his cold eyes turned green, a shiny golden bell reappearing at his neck. The ladybugs dissolved with a whisper of magic, and Tikki tumbled from the air, Marinette just barely catching her before she hit the ground.

“Oh, Tikki. You deserve a thousand cookies,” Marinette whispered, before tucking the tired kwami into her newly reappeared purse.

And then, it was just them. Sure, Alya, Nino and Chloé were somewhere behind them, watching in shocked silence, but Marinette paid them no mind, and Chat Noir only had eyes for her. When her gaze met his, his mouth twisted into a pained grimace and he looked away. She could see the tears welling in his eyes as he turned away, and she sighed.

Both of them had cried enough today, she decided.

“Come here, kitty,” Marinette murmured, and crouched, holding out her arms. He looked back at her from the corner of his eye, hesitating. But she waited. After everything he’s done for her, the least she could do was wait for him. This poor, broken boy, kneeling before her, holding himself just to keep his hands from shaking. She would wait for him for as long as it takes.

“Chat,” she whispered. “It’s okay.” 

Her silly kitty sucked in a breath, and turned to her. His sad eyes met hers. She smiled softly. “It’s okay,” she repeated.

He hesitated again, briefly, but then practically collapsed into her in a swift, needy motion, his face buried in the crook of her neck, and they slid down to the earth together. Marinette on her knees, with Chat Noir almost in her lap, his tail around her hips and his arms around her waist, holding on as if she was his lifeline in a crashing, endless storm. She traced slow circles into the leather at his back as he wet the collar of her jacket with his tears.

“He...he wanted me to-to _kill_ you,” he choked out. His claws dug into her back through the thin fabric of her shirt as he spoke. “He wanted me...to rip the Miraculous from your ears, and-and cataclysm you as I did it so you couldn’t...so you couldn’t...” He broke off with a shuddering sob, burrowing his face further into her neck. One of his hands frantically scrabbled for her own, and when he found it, he interlaced their fingers and squeezed hard. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered into her neck. “I promised I would never hurt you...but I did, and I hurt everybody else and it’s _all my fault_.”

“No, no, kitty. It’s not your fault.” Marinette held him tighter in her arms. She whispered the words like a prayer, willing his tears to stop, his heart to heal. 

He turned slightly in her arms, his sad green eyes looking up to meet her gaze, but before he could speak, the ring on his finger gave a shrill warning beep. His face immediately fell. 

“Oh, Chat, you need to-“ 

“No.” His voice was shockingly firm. He pulled back, looking her dead in the eyes. “I’m not leaving.” In a slightly softer voice, he mumbled, “...I can’t. I...have nowhere to go.” 

Marinette pursed her lips. Chat looked at her pleadingly: he already knew her identity. He frankly didn’t care if she found out his. He was just desperate for her not to leave her; she was the last thing he had left in the world and he couldn’t bear it if she left. Not now. Not after he had no one else to turn to. 

Marinette sighed, and turned, faced her friends behind her. “I know you have a lot of questions. I would too, believe me. But...” She glanced at Chat, whose face was still hidden away in her shoulder, whose body still shuddered under the weight of the world. 

”It’s dangerous for us to know both your identities,” Alya finished. She looked tired, too, Marinette noticed. “We get it. But, girl, when you’re done with this and all fixed up, we have some talking to do.” And Alya, bless her beautiful heart, smirked and winked, grabbing Nino’s hand and pulling him towards her. They removed their Miraculous and returned them to the little black boxes they came in, handing them over. Chloé, after a long moment, did the same. She didn’t seem to be able to look at Marinette, and she said nothing. 

“Thank you guys,” Marinette said quietly. 

Alya put her hand on Marinette’s cheek, gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You’re the best, girl. I’ve always said it.” 

Nino smiled and offered a thumbs-up. 

Chat’s ring beeped again, signaling for the three to leave. Once gone, Marinette brought Chat Noir to his feet. 

“It’s okay,” she murmured when he tried to protest. “I’m not leaving. We just need to go somewhere secluded, okay? We can’t risk anyone else seeing you.” 

Chat looked down at her hand holding his, at her soft, reassuring gaze. He had almost just killed her, and she was still here. Still solid, still strong. Marinette - his princess, his lady. 

He squeezed her hand. “Okay.” 


	2. the way home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _oh, my love  
>  my darling  
> i've hungered for your touch  
> a long, lonely time _

Marinette pulled Chat into a little alley behind an old café. It was dark, and perfectly secluded from the outside world due to the huge dumpsters on either end. They had hidden back here before from akuma attacks while Ladybug - _Marinette_ \- tried to come up with a convoluted plan that involved something ridiculous like a tennis racket or a stick of gum. Her hand was warm in his, and when she turned to smile at him, he felt his wounded heart heal, if only just a little. 

“Is this okay?” she asked. She pulled him to the ground to sit cross-legged in front of her, but she kept holding his hand, and _god_ , he looked so tired. His eyes, usually so vivid and full of life and love and joy, were trained on the ground, dull and exhausted.

“Chat, you don’t have to do this. It’s okay if I don’t know who you are. I know you’re going through something really difficult right now, and I don’t want to pressure you into doing this and make everything harder for you.” 

Chat smiled faintly. “I was the one who wanted it, my lady.” He looked up at her, his weary gaze fluttering over her face. “And it wouldn’t be fair to you if I didn’t.”

Marinette frowned, brushing a hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch, humming when her fingers glided over one of his velvety ears. “If it puts more stress on you, I don’t mind not knowing. You were just _akumatized_ , Chat, and you found out who I am while under Hawkmoth’s control. I can’t imagine that’s a good feeling. I understand if you just want to go home. I’ll still be your partner tomorrow, and we can always talk then.”

He stared at her, a torrent of emotions flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it. Marinette could almost hear the gears turning in his head. And then, out of nowhere, he started laughing. Marinette jumped at the sudden sound. It was the kind of laugh that he didn’t seem to expect either; it bubbled out of his chest and he covered his mouth with his hand, surprised.

“Sometimes…I can’t-I can’t _believe_ you,” Chat sputtered. “I- I nearly just killed you, and Hawkmoth knows who are, and I know who you are, and so does _Chloé_ , for god’s sake, but you’re still…you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay with revealing my identity to you _in secret_.” He grabbed her face with his hands, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “Marinette, you’re amazing.”

Marinette felt her face heat up under his leather gloves. She opened her mouth to reply when his ring started to beep its final, frantic warning, and they both froze.

“Chat,” Marinette whispered.

Chat Noir’s eyes squeezed shut. She wished she could smooth the lines of fear and the sorrow from his face. He pressed his forehead against Marinette’s, leaning into her, their noses brushing together ever so slightly. The claw of his thumb brushed her ear, and if it was anyone else, she would’ve shied away before they could steal her earrings. But this was Chat. He was so close to her that she could feel the staccato of his anxious heart.

The beeping of his ring echoed in the alley, almost drowning out his quiet voice:

“Promise you won’t be disappointed?”

“Were you disappointed with me?”

He drew back slightly, brow furrowed. His green eyes filled her vision. “No, I-“

“Then I won’t be with you.”

Chat bit his lip, his ears twitching. His tail wrapped around one of Marinette’s ankles. He looked so nervous, an expression she rarely saw on his face. This poor, sweet boy. She briefly took his clawed hand in her own to run her thumb over his knuckles.

“I’m going to cover my eyes, just in case you change your mind.” Marinette said gently. She wanted to make sure he knew that the option was his. She swallowed the curiosity burning in her throat; she couldn’t be selfish right now, even if she wanted to. This wasn’t about her.

Chat jerked his head in a shaky nod. “Okay.”

Marinette smiled at him before holding her palms over her closed lids. She heard Chat take a deep, slow breath to steel his nerves before he leaned into her again, mimicking their position from earlier as he pushed his nose into the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, more or less pulling her into his lap. She adjusted her legs to straddle his waist to make them both more comfortable. He mumbled something against her skin that she didn’t quite catch, but through the cracks in her fingers (and through her eyelids) she saw a flash of green as the beeping of his ring quieted, and the leather mask pressed against her neck fizzled away.

Marinette diligently kept her eyes shut and covered, letting him decide whether or not he was ready for her.

“Hey, wonder girl!” It was an unfamiliar, raspy voice. Not Chat. “How you holding up?”

“Hello, Plagg,” Marinette said, smiling. “Tikki’s told me about you.”

She felt something small flit past her hands at her face, landing on her unoccupied shoulder. Chat still hadn’t spoken, or moved.

“Where's Sugarcube? She didn’t look so hot after she miraculoused everything back to normal.”

“She’s in my purse. You can go say hello, if you want, but she’s sleeping. It’s been a hard day.”

Plagg laughed into her ear. “You can say that again.” There was a pause, before the little kwami leaned closer and whispered something just for her. “You take care of my boy, okay? He’s...had it real hard. He needs someone like you to...you know. Show him he’s worth something.”

Marinette’s smile turned sad behind her hands. “I will, Plagg. Don’t worry.”

Plagg tapped a paw against her cheek, and she felt him zip away, presumably into her purse to be with Tikki.

Now, it was just her and Chat, whoever he may be.

“ _Chaton?_ ” She asked, quietly. “Are you okay?” He made a noncommittal sound and tightened his grasp around her, perhaps to stop his hands from shaking. Marinette noticed anyway, but didn’t comment on it. He was scared, and that was okay. She was scared too, but she would let him take his time. She didn’t mind waiting.

After a long, long time, she felt him pull back. He let out a shaky breath before her, and warm fingers encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away, into his own.

“Are you sure?” Marinette whispered, keeping her eyes closed.

“I’m sure,” he replied.

So she opened her eyes, meeting a tired, but achingly familiar, green gaze, and uncharacteristically messy blond hair, and she almost laughed despite it all, because _who else could it possibly be?_

Adrien Agreste stared at her, searching her face, trying to read her expression. He had dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders were hunched slightly, defensively, and he looked for all the world ready for Marinette to slap him in the face.

Of course, she would never. Marinette simply stared right back. Her mind was moving a thousand miles a minute as all the pieces fell into place. Adrien Agreste: perfect, graceful, confident Adrien, who smiled easily and was unfailingly polite, was her own precious, flirty, obnoxious Chat Noir. And as he sat there holding her, with hunched shoulders and wavering, nervous eyes, she almost laughed at herself for not noticing before. They were never in the same place at once, and Adrien always disappeared during akuma attacks. While Marinette had been fretting as Ladybug over whether or not Adrien had made it out okay, he was right there next to her the entire time. _God_ , she was oblivious. They had the same hair, the same lithe frame, and _those eyes_.

Her partner, her crush, all wrapped together in one perfectly imperfect human being, sitting right in front of her, waiting desperately for her validation. And she knew then it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Are you…” Adrien began hesitantly. He looked down, avoiding her gaze. “You’re disappointed. You must’ve thought I’d be someone better.”

Seeing his broken expression, Marinette cupped Adrien’s tear-stained face in her hands, running her finger through his golden hair in little circles. He sniffled slightly, watching her with wide eyes. “No,” she said, wiping away a tear from his bottom eyelash with her thumb. “I could never be disappointed with you.”

Adrien almost flinched at the words, disbelief coloring his expression. “But...I’m not-“ he hesitated briefly, worrying his lower lip with his teeth in a very Chat-like way. “I’m not anyone special.”

Marinette smiled. “Neither am I, kitty cat.”

She gently lifted his chin so she could kiss his forehead, still tracing little patterns into his hair in the way she knew he liked. “I’m clumsy. I’m stubborn. I’m always late to class, and even if I’m on time, I’ll probably fall asleep when I should be taking notes. I’m not perfect, and neither are you, and that’s fine.” She tilted his face so she could see his eyes. “We wouldn’t be good superheroes if we were.”

After a moment, Adrien breathed a shaky sigh of relief, dropping his face into her shoulder again. “I thought you were going to hate me,” he mumbled.

“Oh, kitty, why would I ever hate you?”

She could feel his lips moving against her skin. She never thought she would be in this situation, not with Adrien or Chat Noir. “I thought…I always kind of thought you hated me after the gum incident. And that’s why you never wanted to talk to me.”

Marinette blinked. “I…you thought…I _hated_ you?” she sputtered.

He nodded.

Marinette couldn’t help it. She really couldn’t. She burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands and leaning into Adrien to keep herself upright. He shot up, hands flying to her shoulders, his baffled expression only making her laugh harder.

“This is so ridiculous…I can’t believe this,” she wheezed. “Adrien, kitty, I never hated you. Not even when I thought you were the one who put the gum on my seat. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Adrien furrowed his brow, his arms drifting back to her waist. “I don’t-“

“I _like_ you, Adrien. I always have, you idiot.”

He looked up at her so fast he nearly displaced her from his lap. “You _what_?”

Marinette giggled. “You’re so oblivious, _chaton_.” She couldn’t help but notice the way Adrien’s cheeks burned red, and imagined her face looked much the same. If they were just Marinette and Adrien, she would’ve combusted by now. But they weren’t just Marinette and Adrien - they were also Ladybug and Chat Noir. And for some reason, that was fine.

“You like…Adrien? Not Chat Noir?” Adrien squeaked.

Marinette smiled. “I like all of you.”

Adrien’s eyes shimmered with tears, and he glanced away. He didn’t release his hold on Marinette.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmured.

Marinette winced at the memory behind those words. _I don’t think my dad loves me anymore_.

“You can tell me anything,” she replied gently, returning her fingers to his hair, smiling when he closed his eyes at her touch.

He didn’t speak at first. He sat there, shaking like an unstable tower in the wind, like one gust would knock him over and he would shatter into pieces. She smoothed the hair away from his face and waited. When he finally spoke, he was quiet, his words hesitant and uncertain, but heartbreakingly honest.

“I wanted…I wanted you to know who I was so _badly_. I just...I wanted somebody to see me. And you never judged me or yelled at me or shut me out...you never left me. You - Ladybug - were just so perfect. It was so easy to idolize you,” he said, lowering his gaze as his face flushed. “But when I...when you detransformed and I saw it was you...I...it made sense. For once, Ladybug was just... _real_ , instead of...untouchable. But I couldn’t do anything about it because _he_ was in my head, forcing me to do those awful things…but all I wanted to do was go to you because I was so _happy_ it was you. But I couldn’t.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “You’re my lady. My princess. I wanted to protect you so badly, both sides of you, because I-I care about you so much sometimes that it hurts, Marinette.”

His floodgates were open. He looked back up at her with watery eyes and a shaking voice, and it was all she could do to hold him and listen.

“Ever since I met you as Ladybug when we fought Stoneheart together, and we were so _bad_ at being superheroes - I barely knew how to use my staff or my cataclysm - I fell so hard. I’d never met anyone like you and the fact that I got to be your partner and fight beside you and protect you was...” He looked at her with those green, green eyes, and Marinette’s breath caught in her throat when he smiled. “It was _incredible_.

“And then, there was you. Marinette. You were shy and sweet and funny and you got so mad at me when you thought I put that gum on your chair and I remember wanting to be friends with you so badly after that. I don’t even know why I gave you my umbrella...it was such a shitty umbrella but I didn’t want you to catch a cold...”

He trailed off for a moment as he found his words.

“You...both sides of you…made me feel okay. _Make_ me feel okay. You never ask questions or poke or prod, you’re always just there. For me. For Adrien and for Chat. Even when…even when my father…” He closed his eyes. For a moment, he was still, hiding his face in her neck, and silence settled over them like a heavy, suffocating fog. He was on the brink of something that would break him, the words floating on his lips but too difficult to say. But he had to. 

“He’s Hawkmoth, Marinette,” he said weakly, childishly, as if he were a toddler confessing to stealing butterscotch from the dollar store counter. And with that, he shattered. He had ridden this wave to the end and he had just reached the shore, collapsing into Marinette as his body convulsed, wracked with sobs that he didn’t even know he had left. He hadn’t said those words out loud up until now, hadn’t dared to make it a reality, but Marinette had gone and shattered all of his shields with her polka-dotted yo-yo, and he was holding tight to her like she was his anchor in a raging hurricane, grounding him as the world threatened to swallow him whole.

Marinette didn’t speak. The horror of her suspicions being reality froze her, her hands stilling in Adrien’s hair. But the feel of his tears soaking through her collar quickly brought her back, and she pulled him impossibly closer to her, one hand buried in his hair and the other drawing soothing circles on his back. She forced herself to be strong. She had to be, for him.

“Does he know you’re Chat Noir?” she whispered.

“N-no, I don’t th-think so,” he choked out. “It was an…an accident - the p-painting, there were buttons and-“ His voice crumbled away into a raw, exposed sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. “He’s gonna kill you, Marinette,” he said, so, so quietly, the words barely a ghost of a whisper against her skin. “I can’t…I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.”

“It’s okay, _chaton_ ,” Marinette murmured. “I’m right here. He won’t hurt me, not if he wants my earrings.” She moved her hands to his face, pulling him away from her body so she could look into his teary, red eyes. “I won’t leave you. I’m Ladybug, remember?” She brushed her thumb, feather-light, under his eye. “And I have you. You’ve done nothing but protect me and keep me safe. We’re a team. We can do this, no matter what, and we’ll do it side-by-side.”

Adrien’s gaze wavered as his pupils drowned in a sea of his tears. “We’re a t-team,” he repeated, shakily.

“That’s right,” Marinette said gently. She tilted his face to the side, placed a soft, barely-there kiss on his wet cheek. “We’ll figure all this out together.”

He gave a jerky nod.

They spent a long while there, sitting in that alley, Adrien clinging to Marinette, and Marinette weaving her fingers through his hair until he stopped shaking. Neither knew how much time had passed until either of them spoke again, when Adrien had no more tears left to cry, and Marinette had no more songs to hum in his ears. They drew apart, just enough to look at each other, but still touching; they couldn’t bear to let each other go.

“Can…Can I stay at your place?”

“Of course, kitty. You didn’t even have to ask.”

Adrien managed to muster up a cattish grin. “I didn’t realize that was all it took to get in your bed,” he said slyly. His heart wasn’t entirely in it, but he couldn’t help but laugh when Marinette rolled her eyes and shoved his face away.

“I’ll make you sleep on the balcony,” she teased. “I’ll put out some cat food for you.”

Adrien sighed dramatically, throwing an arm across his face. “So cruel is my lady.”

Marinette giggled. “If you feed strays they’ll always come back.”

“Does that mean you want me to come back?”

“Of course not,” Marinette replied dryly, and he burst into laughter yet again. Pure, happy, closed-eyed laughter, despite the circumstances, despite the world around them. Marinette smiled at him, this beautiful, imperfect boy before her, and wondered how in the world she got to be this lucky. Her thumb brushed at the crinkles in the corner of one of his puffy eyes, and he cracked it open to look at her, his smile shining like the sun itself. His hair was messy, his jeans dirty from sitting in the alley, his cheeks streaked with tear tracks and his lips red from worrying them too much. His arms sat comfortably around her as if he belonged there.

Marinette’s smile widened.

“ _Chaton_ ,” she said.

Adrien paused in his laughter, looking at her, surprised at what he saw. Her gaze was determined; she looked the way she did when she just found out exactly how to use her Lucky Charm. 

“Yes, my lady?”

“I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

Adrien felt his entire face start on fire, and his hands slipped a little from their hold on her.

“I thought you’d never ask, my lady,” he replied, trying to summon a Chat-like smirk, but his words came out breathless and his smile was too big to be suave.

Marinette giggled. “You silly cat.”

She cupped his face, smiling at the heat of his cheeks. And she kissed him right there, in a dark, dirty alley behind a café, threading her fingers through his hair and laughing when he began to purr. Their noses bumped together and Adrien’s lips were chapped but it was perfect, so perfect, both of them smiling against each other’s lips until they had to break away for fear of asphyxiation. Their hands laced together like they were made to be that way, fitting together like puzzle pieces, and Adrien brought their joined hands up to his lips so he could kiss Marinette’s knuckles, chuckling when she blushed.

For that little moment, that night, everything was okay. It was just Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, two souls twined together in luck and in fate holding each other simply because they wanted to. Both of them were hurt, both of them scarred, but over time those scars would heal and their broken hearts would mend. They had the weight of the world on their shoulders, but now, as the moon rose over Paris, they let the world take care of itself. Just for a night, so they could take care of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!! Thank you for reading. This was a spur of the moment decision to write this, it was 1 in the morning... you know how it goes. This whole thing was inspired by Art of Rhues’s animatic, by the way. Literally, the whole thing. I watched that video a million times and thought “I’d love to see this in a story” and then went “I’ll just do it”. Go check out her videos!
> 
> I adore everyone who reads this. Thank you so much. Leave a kudos/a comment if you liked it, and let me know what you'd like to see from me next!


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